It's NeVAda Not NeVAHda
by aphrodite931
Summary: Erin F. Jones, aka Nevada, is writing letters at her father's request...Ok DEMAND. Rated M for language and it might even have to be raised seeing as how she IS the home of "Sin City".
1. Chapter 1

It's Ne-VA-Da Not Ne-VAH-Da

Hey there guys! It's Nevada here! And may I just take the time out to stress that my name is pronounced, Ne-VA-da. It's an "Aa" sound like in the word "cat". Seriously, I don't get why I'm the only state who has to suffer through this crap. I've never heard anyone pronounce Nebraska's name Ne-BRAH-ska.

Anyway, now that the introductions are out of the way we can get down to business and by business, I mean keeping me occupied by writing me letters. Normally, I'd be too busy for something like this lest it be hanging out with Terri (Tony's female alien friend *hint hint* *wink wink*) or spending a late night out on the town, but things have been a bit crazy here lately and I think I need to find a way to vent that doesn't involve booze. Ok, I don't think that way but pops sure does. Alfred even said he was considering signing me up for Alcoholics Anonymous. Not that I'd ever go even if he did. AA is for quitters and I am not a quitter. Besides, it's not like my drinking is a real problem (I think he's just jealous because I can out drink him with the added bonus of never getting a hangover in the morning). Sure, I'll admit that it was after one particular drunken night that I found out I had gotten a tattoo stamped in a rather personal area (I'll tell you all more about that story later, well, if you want to hear that is…) but that doesn't necessarily mean that I've got a problem.

...

*Pouts*

I really don't care for that look you're giving me. It's like the one that dickless bastard California gives me. It's the nod your head in agreement but you really don't believe me look. I'm telling you I'm fine. It's not like I drink every night! And so what if I keep a fully stocked liquor cabinet at all times! And yes, my skirts may be a bit short, my language crass, and I religiously carry around a set of silver-coated brass knuckles (who knows when your revolver might not be enough?) but that does not mean I have any kind of problem, alcoholic included!

Ehhhem…

So, won't you write the 36th daughter of the great Alfred F. Jones and keep her "on the right track".

Psshht, as if. If the right track even does exist I won't even be able to see because I'm so far left. When will people ever understand that? However, it couldn't hurt to try now could it? So drop me a line.

Sincerely,

Erin F. Jones

P.S. If you write me, I can tell you some really embarrassing stories about California…and America… and well most every other state and nation for that matter. What can I say other than should anything else be expected of the home of the "Sin City"?

Also, Utah, if you're reading this, do me a favor, GO DIE!

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><p><strong>AN:**

Alright guys, here is the first chapter. I hope you like it. I plan on making a few more Nevada Hetalia stories since it's my home despite technically being born in New York. However, here is my letters bit. Please write and ask a question. I suggest either asking bout her "tat", California, Utah, the mob, or prostitution as I have some stories planned for those but anything is fine. :)


	2. Chapter 2

T-Mac,

Thanks for writing me! I really needed the distraction. Anyway, so on to your questions which you sure seem to have quite a few of might I add.

Alright, so ummmm, I really don't get along well with Deseret-I mean Uu-Tah because…How do I put this lightly? He's a controlling philandering douchebag, that's why. Do you know how long he kept Arizona, Colorado, and myself trapped in his fuckin' crappy house? 15 years! I finally managed to get away after I saved America during the Civil War, but that's a story for another day. In any case, he really helped me become my own state, independent of that Utah bastard. In fact he was the ONLY one who helped me. California just sat back and essentially watched me be taken away by that asshole. Not once did he even try to see me and actually seemed upset when America came to my assistance. What a freakin' ass!

Am I right? How could he, -_why should he_ possibly be upset? If anything, I should be pissed at _him_! I mean, he's the one who got Congress to give him most of _my_ water and his people suck at driving and fuck up my roads. I should totally be the one pissed at him!

I mean sure, Deser- Utah, took part of Cali's vital parts with him when held me captive but is that really any reason to leave a damsel in distress? But, perhaps that's why he didn't help; he literally didn't have the balls! HA! Get it? He didn't have the balls as in physically and metaphorically?

Ok, well hopefully you're laughing or at least smirked. I won't really know as this is a letter and thus confirms my belief that letters are stupid. You can't even see the other person's reaction and will only know how they felt days if not weeks after said letter has been sent. I mean if you could talk to someone right away, why wouldn't you? Do you just want to make your life more complicated something? Well, I digress.

I hope that answers your question about why I dislike those two bastards. Sure, they've tried to make amends since but what can I say, I hold a grudge and you would too if you had gone through what I did.

But states that I do like are my sisters Arizona and Colorado obviously. I suppose we all bonded through our experience. New York and I also get along swimmingly. She hates California too! I'm ok with everyone else too despite that half of them tried to take away my statehood when I legalized gaming. It's like really people? Everyone was doing it anyway despite that it was illegal so I figured I might as well make it legal so I can cash in on it. Once again, America came to my rescue on that one! Dad's the freakin' greatest! And, it's because I love him so much that I'm actually even bothering writing this so I hope you're reading this pops!

As for my tattoo… Well, it happened back in 1940's. War was brewing in Europe and America was rather upset because England had gotten dragged into it. So, to get his mind off things I thought it would be a good idea to take him drinking, you know, to make him forget his problems…and support the local economy. So, I ended up taking four double shots of Everclear, three tequila sunrises, six shots of whiskey (I really can't be counted on to remember the brand at this point), an AMF, and a Tokyo Tea. Needless to say, I was smashed. The last thing I remember was that after partying it up in Vegas (and being kicked out of just about every alcohol serving establishment there) we decided to go to Reno. The next thing I know, I'm waking up in the middle of the desert alone (Thank God I don't get hangovers). Or at least, I thought I was until a strange feminine voice asked me if I was alright. When I looked towards the sound of the voice I was super shocked to find nothing less an alien! Well, at first I thought I was crazy…or still drunk but eventually realized I was stone cold sober. How sad that moment was. Anyway, we became fast friends although I never told anyone about Terri until her boyfriend Tony came to visit her a few years later. Apparently, the stereotype about men being bad with directions and refusal to ask for directions is true so he ended up in New Mexico where America found him. Anyway, back to me and Terri and my tattoo, as a testament to our friendship and a result of another drunken night, I got a number "51" tattoo just below my… ummmm, vital regions. America had thought the story was so funny named the area that we had put aside in my land "Area 51". He still cracks up when the place is brought up and would have told everyone by now if I hadn't sworn him to secrecy.

Well, I hope that answers your questions. Thanks so much for writing and look forward to hearing from anyone or anywhere else!

Sincerely,

Erin F. Jones

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><p><strong>AN: Alright, so quick history lesson. In the westward expansionist movement, the Mormons tried to establish the state of Deseret in 1846. Needless to say, Congress wasn't really having it as it incorporated almost the entire state of Nevada, southern Cali, Utah (obviously), a bit of Wyoming and New Mexico, and a fair amount of Colorado. So eventually, they cut back all of the territory to form the current states.**

**Also all the information in here is accurate as far as the actual factual dates go such as Area 51 being established in the 1940's. Or at the very least, that's as far back as the government admits to it's existence.**

**ONE MORE THING! NEVER EVER DRINK AS MUCH AS ERIN DID! I shot of Everclear can kill you let alone 6 mixed with other types of alcohol. I refuse to take responsibility for any deaths here.**


	3. Chapter 3

Hey there everybody! Thanks so much for writing me! It's really helping me to bide the time you know? Anyway, I suppose I should get on to the answer questions parts, huh?

So, HonestLiar33 (nice name by the way) said,

"Yay! A Nevada one! Finally I can ask my state a question. :3

... Okay here it is

Aren't you younger then America? If he's not even legal age to drink... How are you getting in to these places?"

Now, that is a very good question that kind has a long answer. You see, back in the day -Good God does saying that make me sound old- there really weren't any rules on drinking. It was more like, can you pay for the drink you just ordered? Yes? Ok then, here you go little five year old boy. Well, I doubt anyone sold a child a drink but you get the point.

However, not too long after I officially joined the Jones family did some of the other states see a problem with my so called "vices". I essentially grew up on liquor and the like and it nearly killed me when they forced me off of it all cold turkey. I mean really, what ever happened to moderation? But I digress. I was in a rather poor state during that period and was even forced to sneak out of MY OWN HOUSE just to get some booze and deal a few cards! It was ridiculous. So yeah, I grew a little bit distant and stuff and I think that freaked out Alfred the most so when I got sick of all this covert crap and pretending to be good if not aloof and legalize drinking and gambling again, he didn't put up a fuss. All the other states did, even going so far as to threaten to kick me out of the family but Alfred wouldn't allow it.

Thanks again for that Pops! I love you lots! xoxo

Anyway, I'm getting to your question, I promise. So for a while, drinking here was just plain and simple like I told you before. You ordered a spirit, paid for it, and drank it. But then the whole prohibition crap started up and after that TERRIBLY, AWFUL, DISASTROUS time, I was forced to establish the drinking age as 21. Apparently it was corrupting the youth or something and for a while, I found myself in a pinch as you have pointed out. You see, my human age is roughly 16 in a half and let me tell you, the half matters. Anyway, so while I was grumbling that I now needed some stupid card to prove I could drink, well couldn't considering my age, I thought,

'Hey, why don't you just make another card that _says_ you're legal?' And it was like a light bulb went off in my head. It was awesome! So, being the physical embodiment of a state, I easily sauntered right into the DMV and hooked myself up. Ever since then it's been a party every day. Alfred was mad at first, but then I surprised him with his own fake and he didn't care after that. Besides, I'm really like 200 years old. Ok, I'm not quite at 200 yet but soon, in 2064! I'm gonna have an amazing bash! If you're 21 by then, which I presume you will be, you should totally come!

Well, I hope to hear from anybody else out there soon. Peace, love, hugs and all that hippie crap. Bye!

Erin F. Jones

I still hate you Utah!

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><p><strong>Thank you so much for writing! I was so happy! I hope you like Erin's response and get other people to write her too.<strong>** Thanks again!**


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